


Love Is Not A Victory March

by PrefectMoony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Comedy, This is a really thinly veiled She's All That retelling, love smitten idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrefectMoony/pseuds/PrefectMoony
Summary: Acting as if James hadn’t even spoken, Fabian gets up to meet Sirius eye to eye. “Next person to walk through the door is your conquest.”“Fine with me.”“I don’t like this at all.”Everyone continues to ignore James, to busy keeping up a death stare towards the entrance of the living room— Sirius’s stomach dropping six feet under and his heart clenched when not even a minute passes and it’s no other than Remus Lupin who ambles through the threshold, looking so adorably flustered until spotting Dorcas Meadowes— president of both the STEM club and  the black student union— who quickly envelopes him into a hug before they stroll towards the garden by the smokers.ANd shit.—OR—In which Sirius wants all of this to be real, Remus wants to live inside the silver screen, and this is a very thinly veiled She’s All That AU
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 53
Collections: The Candy Hearts Challenge





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya loves! So yes this is a repost becs I wanted to fix it up and I think it’s much more of an actual story now ty God<3 <3 
> 
> I wrote this for the babe’s [GoodBoyLupin’s](https://goodboylupin.tumblr.com) Candy Hearts challenge, for the prompt, “Love Letter” and it just really got the fuck away from me. So I’ll be posting the second and final half on Sunday, but if not definitely some time next week.
> 
> The lyric is obvi from Hallelujah, but I recommend the Jeff Buckley version if you do listen<3 
> 
> I really hope you like this!!!

“Sometimes when you open up to people, you let the bad in with the good.”  
-Zack Siler, She’s All That

~*~

The Lion’s just won their third game in a row for the season, which of course dictates that the team celebrates with an after party at the Prewett’s house while their parents are off visiting their older sister and her new born up north in Albany. There’s a Suicideboys song pulsing through the speakers, and a never ending tub of jungle juice besides a truly imposing stack of White Claws towards the back. All the necessary ingredients for a good and proper blow out in Sirius’s humble opinion, even if he has to see Peter Pettigrew’s pasty white ass when he runs through the house screaming that he’s lost his pants before jumping into the backyard’s pool in the midst of people cackling and taking photos for their Snapchat and Instagram stories. Not an irregular occurrence, all things considered, especially when taking into account how fucking tweaky Pettigrew can get when he smokes too much.

But whatever, it’s fine.

Sirius is taking a huff out of the sloppily wrapped joint that Evan Rosier had just handed over— which proofs that if you want anything decently done you have to do it yourself. But it’s whatever, he’s laughing along to a story James is crowing about, the time when they had snuck into a Florida club during spring break of last year— emphatic hand motions and all— and Eleanor Hawthorne is making eyes at him from across the way— a sure lay for tonight— and he’s the one who made the final goal that won them the game against those serpents in the first place. So yeah it’s a good night all put together. It would be a great night if Fabian would stop whining about Emmeline Vance dumping him for the fourth time in as many months of dating after she had caught him half way to fucking a blonde from the local Catholic girl’s school. But he supposes you can’t get everything you want.

“Emmy is the love of my life,” Fabian moans in a truly pitiful way right on queue, interrupting James cackling over how Sirius had flirted so hard with the bartender that they ended up drinking free for half the night. Gideon sums up all their feelings when he just rolls his eyes at his twin before sauntering off to probably go and get busy with Benjy Fenwick upstairs, the selfish bastard.

“Sure she was,” Kingsley says wryly before going back to the game of beer pong that he’s destroying the competition at, and Frank only pats Fabian’s head consolingly.

“I loved her I tell you!” Fabian shouts defiantly before chugging down his fifth claw of the hour, already fucking tipsy— the light weight.

“Get some dignity man, and get over it,” Sirius tells him— this side of derisive.

Fabian glares at him menacingly. “Just because you don’t have a heart Black, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t feel things!”

“I have a heart, I’m just not a bitch bout it,” Sirius sniffs loftily, getting up to stretch and gulps down the rest of his rum and coke, winking at a junior who’s blatantly staring after him and making her flush.

“Have you ever even had a long term relationship in your life? Besides just folks you keep on the back burner for casual hook ups?” Frank asks, a bit slurred before stuffing another handful of Doritos into his mouth. He thinks that just because he and Alice Flores have been mindnumpingly in love since Freshman year Homecoming that the rest of the world is just lost until they find their “other half” like they have, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

“Sure I have Frances, your mom.” No one laughs, and he doesn’t expect them to— that was a pathetic attempt at a joke, and Sirius blames the subpar weed. “’S whatever, I can keep up a relationship if I wanted to.”

“I bet you can’t find someone you haven’t already fucked and dumped to take’m to the Snowflake Formal,” Kingsley goads, effortlessly bouncing another ball into a solo red cup before taking a seat on the arm rest besides frank and chugging from an untouched Miller.

James only shakes his head, muttering a small, “Here we go,” beneath his breath.

“Oh hop off, all I gotta do is not cheat on’m with anything that breathes, learned that one from you Fabs.”

Fabian glares darkly at him, “That was a misunderstanding.”

“Your tongue was down the chick’s mouth.”

“We were on a break!”

“And Joey doesn’t share food!” Frank tacks on with a snort.

Fabian flips him the bird before swiveling his gaze back up at Sirius, “Just admit that you’re an irreverent asshole and can’t hold up a relationship if your life counted on it.”

“Pff,” Sirius tilts his head, starting to get real peeved off. “Let’s make it a bet then. I’ll get a date to take for the formal, just to rub it in your fucking face Prewett.”

“Guys, this is a bad idea.” James interjects.

“I think it’s an amazing one,” Kingsley counters, pixelated gleam in his dark eyes.

“I think you’re all off your rockers,” Frank intones with far too much gravity.

Sirius sighs. “No more comments from the peanut gallery for the love of Christ.”

“Not only a date, a full blown relationship for the next three months! Gotta make the poor fucker believe it too.” Fabian clarifies, to which Sirius only shrugs, indifferent to the caveat. “Then you’re on Black! And if you lose, you gotta streak the entire crowd during the championship game!”

Sirius agrees easily, knowing full and well that he won’t lose to the bastard. “And if I win, you gotta hand over that motorcycle you and your dad have been fixing up over the summer.”

“deal.”

“Deal.”

They shake on it with matching smirks of condescension.

“This is going to be so, so bad.”

Acting as if James hadn’t even spoken, Fabian gets up to meet Sirius eye to eye. “Next person to walk through the door is your conquest.”

“Fine with me.”

“I don’t like this at all.”

Everyone continues to ignore James, to busy keeping up a death stare towards the entrance of the living room— Sirius’s stomach dropping six feet under and his heart clenched when not even a minute passes and it’s no other than Remus Lupin who ambles through the threshold, looking so adorably flustered until spotting Dorcas Meadowes— president of both the STEM club and the black student union— who quickly envelopes him into a hug before they stroll towards the garden by the smokers.

ANd shit.

This is Remus Fucking Lupin. Remus Lupin who just started at Hogwarts their Sophomore year after moving from a small town in Northern California all the way to the outskirts of New York City. Remus Lupin who is quite literally the most beautiful thing that Sirius has ever laid his damn eyes on— all soft looking golden brown curls, and ridiculously large eyes the color of autumn, and a sole dimple that pops up right at the apple of his cheek when he’s smiling— something he’s never done in response to Sirius. And okay, that’s fair, it’s not like Sirius is exactly Mr suave around him anyway. It would probably be more appropriate to call him a dog with a bone— dumbstruck and slobbering.

The first time he ever saw Remus, it was the final week of August, and Sirius was out playing a soccer match with the rest of the gym class as an easy way to begin the term. He only looked up for a moment, resulting in the only time in the history of ever that slimy Severus Snape was able to kick a ball right for Sirius’s face without Sirius immediately pouncing for the weasel’s jugular. But damn was that first sighting enough. Enough to know right then and there that he’s just seen a Botticelli angel come to life on a random summer morning. Enough to know he was smitten straight away when he spotted Remus strolling around the field. Enough to wish he could switch places with an actually amiable looking Lily Evans as she showed him the expanse of the campus. Enough to know that he wanted him. Remus was just so golden and lovely and looked so shy while toying around with the digital camera in his hands as Lily chatted with him about Hogwarts— the same digital camera that he’s nearly always got slung around his neck these days, which only makes sense since he’s now the president of the school’s film club and yearbook committee, which should definitely be absolute turn offs but are decidedly not when he thinks of Remus’ long, inhumanly elegant fingers handling the device and capturing a moment he finds beautiful enough to remember.

And God.

Sirius has never in all his seventeen years felt such a stomach twisting sort of attraction towards someone, never knew how fucking gutting it could feel, suddenly sorry for all the times he had taunted James’s mooning over Lily. Frankly, it’s the fucking worst feeling— to be so malleable to one singular person, so desperate for their approval and aching for their affection.

It’s the tail end of September now— almost exactly two years from their initial encounter— and Sirius has made absolutely no progress on the Remus front, save for the one time he forgot a pencil the day of an exam in English Lit, and mustered up enough nerves to ask Remus to borrow one of his color coded pens, who ever so kindly — with a slight scowl twisting his incredibly pretty face— tossed one over to him before turning back around to begin their assessment over The Sun Also Rises. Sirius is pretty sure his almost visceral attraction towards Remus Lupin was sealed the second he saw the bite marks marring the utensil and subsequently spent the remainder of the year gawking at him nibbling on the top of his own pen. (Sirius blames Remus’s oral fixation for his less than Stellar grade that semester.

But all of that is absolutely besides the point, because he’s just made a bet with the most sadistic fucker on campus to not only score a date with Remus, but get into an actual, real life relationship with him.

“Good luck with that one my man, I hear he hasn’t bothered to go out on one date since that business with that older dude from St Thomas,” Fabian cackles with a clap to his shoulder, and Sirius absolutely hates him at the moment. 

“Oh no!” James stands up abruptly now, fuming. “NO, no, no Sirius! He’s one of Lily’s closest friends! And she’s only just agreed to go out with me! You are not going to ruin my chances to get married to the love of my life over a dumb bet!”

Sirius flickers a hopeful gaze to Fabian who in turn is simply smirking like Edward Fucking Scissorhands. “If Black wants to parade that ghost white ass in front of the crowds then he’s more than welcome to give up now.”

Sirius feels the pulse point at his temple begin to throb— Jesus he hates fabian sometimes. “Make your goodbyes to the bike you fucker.” In true Black fashion, he storms off in a proud huff— a move that would probably make Walberga beam with pride. But before he can figure out just where exactly he’s headed, he runs face first into the very last person he’s looking for.

“Oof, sorry.” 

Sirius quite literally freezes, his hands on both of Remus’s biceps to make sure he doesn’t fall. And whelp— Now he’s just peering down at those infuriatingly lovely eyes, and it’s like Sirius feels the electricity pounding between them. “Oh, erm, no don’t worry bout it Lupin.”

The skin around his amber pools crinkle and Remus smiles at him, slowly stepping back so to detangle themselves, and yeah— Sirius probably looks like a right lune. “Congrats on the win, I went to watch with Lils and it was great, especially that last maneuver you and James played.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Sirius says like a total fucking doofus.

Remus continues to smile as if it isn’t shivving Sirius right in the chest with every second that passes. “It’s like you two can read each other’s minds.”

Sirius really, really hopes James can’t read his mind, especially now, with all his common sense being tossed out the God forsaken window in favor of all the besotted things he’s waxing lyrical about Remus instead— And the not so PG thoughts besides. But Sirius doesn’t say any of that, opts to just nod as unaffectedly as possible. “Yeah— Friendship will do that I guess.“

Remus has moved to eyeing him concernedly, and he probably thinks that Sirius is like brain dead or socially inept or something, which point. That’s probably a fair assessment considering how spacey Sirius can get whenever they’re in a room together. “Right… I just wanted to get a mixer, but I’ll see ya around, yeah?” He smiles crookedly up at him, before pivoting on his heels to stroll back towards the refreshments.

“No stay—“ Sirius says under his breath, but because God apparently hates him, Remus hears the pitiful plea, and turns back slightly with a kinked brow.

“What?”

“Oh, erm— Nothing! Just, see ya in class Lupin.”

Remus continues to eye him speculatively for only a moment longer before just nodding, once and unsure, while he meanders towards the drinks. And holy hell, he looks so fucking gorgeous in those slim cut jeans and that denim jacket with the fur lining, and shit!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Sirius is in so much trouble.


	2. Part II

~*~

If Sirius is being at all honest, the most infuriating part about all of this is that he was actually going to ask Remus out soon. He just needed to have a little extra time to muster up his nerves and swallow his pride in prepare for a potential rejection. It’s only taking so long because he’s Sirius Fucking Black. He’s never actually worried about that possibility ever happening to him, He’s handsome in any and all definitions, comes from a family with more money than God on top of that. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s the star defensive midfielder of their state winning soccer team while regularly making the Dean’s List.

Sirius has been chased by lovesick peers his entire life. So he’s just feeling a bit wrong footed with Remus, and all the alien emotions he can evoke with only the curve of a smile. But still, he was going to do it— He was going to ask him out. And probably before the end of the year to! After all, he’d be ridiculously stupid if he didn’t. 

Remus is so kind to everyone— has this innate compassion about him that glows through his every grin. And he reads actual, God forsaken biographies about his favorite directors and books by folks with Russian surnames from like a century ago that he gets so excited about analyzing. And he has this sly sort of humor, this discrete mischief about him that the prefect only uses on the assholes in their class. Sirius knows that Remus is the one who stuffed Snape’s gym shoes with dish soap last term when he wouldn’t leave Lily the fuck alone, and stuck that glitter bomb into Rosier’s locker because of his generally rotten attitude about the scholarship kids; Even drown Mulciber’s iPhone and textbooks in the campus pool after he called Mary McDonald a slur when spotting the Star of David hanging off her neck. And he never got caught which Sirius either thinks is sheer luck or more likely because Remus has that sort of angelic appearance that makes it hard for anyone to think he has a devious side.

Either way, Remus is amazing, and brilliant and so fucking cute besides. He’s the fucking complete package, and Sirius thinks that he could spend the rest of his life utterly enraptured, just trying to parse out every spec of color that dances in his chestnut eyes. Slowly pealing him layer by layer until Sirius knew every inch of his person, Until he kissed every patch of Remus’s soft, golden skin. Until he understood every facet of his brilliant mind. Until they were completely intwined in the most sickeningly earnest of ways.

But yeah— Ahem. It’s nothing serious, nothing to write home about. It’s just a bit of a crush all things considered. All that flowery shit is irrelevant.

But back to the point at hand, Fabian is a fucking dick headed, malicious son of a bitch, and Sirius hates him.

Really and truly, it’s only the fact that this bet is making him speed up his closely calculated plans that is really bugging the hell out of Sirius. And he tries explaining as much to James the next morning while they’re working off their hangovers with greasy bacon sandwiches and endless cups of caffeine while playing a round of Far Cry in his room— Well— Explaining as much save for all that embarrassing shit about wanting to be Mr Lupin-Black one day. James can write Mr Lily Evans all he wants all over his agendas but Sirius has a smidge more dignity than that— Well, maybe not, because a tattoo with those words wouldn’t be so bad. Or maybe one with Remus’s birthdate? Or just a Pisces sign right under a prettily written RJL on his sternum?

Oh shit, no. This is so not what Sirius should be focussing on right now.

He shakes his head, trying to force those contemplations out, before he refocusses his gaze over to his best friend, pleading. “C’mon Prongs, just help me out, for the sake of my junk.”

“I hope you and your junk get eaten by the giant squid,” James retorts mulishly, pressing down on the buttons of his PS controller with more force than at all necessary.

“You’d be depriving the world of one of its Great Wonders,” he intones. “I hope you can live with that guilt.”

“You’re a prick.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“No,” he fumes. “Do you want it in Spanish? N. O. No! I can give it to you in Tamil if you want? Illai!! Or I bet I can look it up in Scandinavian? Or perhaps Russian if that’ll tickle your fancy?”

“You’re acting like a cunt.” Sirius tells him waspishly, scowl set in his face.

“Then stop asking me to help you with this stupid fucking bet.”

“James I can’t let fucking Fabian win!”

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“Just talk to Lily?”

“She hates you Sirius.”

Okay, fair. This is very true. Part of the reason why Sirius hasn’t been able to collect himself enough to ask out Remus until now is mainly to do with Lily’s flashing green eyes and rather guard-dog like tendencies when it comes to Remus. “Humph, fine. Just ask her if she knows if he’s open to going out on a date with someone then.”

“Net.”

“For me, c’mon please. In the name of brotherhood.”

Sirius knows that using the brothers angle could be considered emotional manipulation in some lights, but he doesn’t care much when it finally makes James press pause on killing a couple of cultists on the screen to instead glare at him. “You are the biggest asshole I know.”

“Only second to you stud.”

“You make my life so fucking difficult.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who brought you that cream from the pharmacy when Snape put itching powder in your pants and you were stuck in the third floor girl’s stall.” Sirius reminds him magnanimously.

“Only because he did it after you hung his underwear on the flagpole while everyone else was showering after dodgeball!” James retorts.

“Yes, but I seem to remember how that particular prank made you ever so gleeful! Even after I spent an hour rubbing my hands clean from the potential diseases I might’ve caught.”

James glares at him, mouth twisted up morosely. “You weren’t even the one who touched’m! You made Peter do it for you!”

“Proximity breeds diseases too Jamie.”

James throws back his head, utterly exasperated. “Oh fine you fucking prick.”

Sirius perks up glowingly, “You’ll ask then!”

“Hell no, I wasn’t kidding. Lily really does hate you bro.” Sirius feels himself wilt. “But I do know that she and Remus spend Tuesday afternoons drinking milkshakes and doing their chemistry homework over at Fortescue’s… I guess it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch if we just happened to walk in around then—"

Absolutely elated, Sirius pounces, kissing him sloppily on the forehead and pinching his cheeks like a doting Aunt. “I knew I kept you around for more than just that pretty face, you genius you.”

James swats his hands away and tosses him the bird. “Keep your disease ridden lips to yourself and help me win instead of mooning over Lupin, for fucks sake.”

“I bet he’d like my disease ridden lips,” Sirius sniffs.

“In your dreams,” James counters, returning to the game and nudging Sirius to follow suit— But he suddenly can’t. Is now consumed with doubt that this would even work. Who knows if Remus even likes him in that way. If he would even want to go out with him on a date. It feels like such a long shot. “Stop being an idiot.”

Sirius starts, cocking his head suspiciously at him. “I’m convinced you’ve actually done some dark fucking magic so you could read my mind James. And I’m flattered that you seem to care so deeply, but I’m sorry beautiful, I just don’t see you in that way.”

James flips him the bird. “You had on your Moony face that you only get over Lupin you ugly bitch.”

“I certainly do not have a fucking moony face you lying liar who lies. And I think I should pummel you for even insinuating as much.” Sirius says, though is beyond disappointed when James doesn’t take the bate. Just glances at him in that part worried, but mostly caring way he gets whenever he’s concerned for a loved one. A look Sirius has seen countless times on Mrs Potter’s own face.

“Listen, you’ve been into Lupin for forever. Just act normally, and I’m sure he’ll stumble over ass backwards to get to you like all the other bastards in school.”

Sirius is suddenly so thankful that he’s still sporting his summer tan, so his blushing neck is all the more difficult to detect from under his shirt. “Yeah?”

“Trust me man, the way Lupin pants over you during games is almost repulsive. If I didn’t like him so much, I’d probably have lost all my respect for the dude after the time i literally saw him licking his lips while staring at your ass in your soccer uniform. Thought he was about to take a picture with his damn camera, I swear.”

Sirius feels his insides go abuzz with excitement, and the hair on his arms stand up with static. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I wish I was.” James sighs, forever suffering. “Marlene and I started a game on how many times we catch Lupin lusting over you in a single day.”

Suddenly Sirius is lost in an insane amount of emotions. Shock, that he might actually have a chance. Mirth, that maybe Remus feels that airy, love struck way that Sirius once considered a curse. Even some thrill over finally getting to start the plan. But mostly he just feels pure irritation, and kicks James’s leg for good measure.

“You could’ve told me this like how long ago you piece of shit!”

“Hey! Ow! I thought you knew! He’s not subtle.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Sirius fumes, currently caught amidst an internal war on whether to kick James again or flop forlornly on to the bed so he can moan about all the missed opportunities.

“Well, then you’re both fucking idiots because according to Dorcas he has no idea about your pathetic feelings either, you absolute pussy.”

Sirius ends up going Dutch and chooses on doing both.

.-

All right, the plan is officially off the rails. Abort! Abort! Sirius needs to fucking abort! He did not expect this! He expected mild mannered prefects just chatting in the small joint that’s become the most popular study area for the Hogwarts crowd (With Fortescue’s lively ambiance and 1950s-esque aesthetic, completed with it’s regularly alternating malts and shakes and the best curly fries this side of the Hudson). Albeit, maybe Remus’s hair would be a little mussed after he does that thing where he rinses his hand through it when he’s getting irritated or stressed, the way he does all through chemistry. And Maybe he would have his uniform’s button up rolled to his elbows and his jacket slung behind him. That would be expected. That would e reasonable. That would have some decorum to it.

What Sirius does not expect is walking into Fortescue’s, cocksure and convinced that this little surprise ambush plan of James’s would work like magic— only to laser focus on the pair of best friends, and promptly swallowing his entire fucking tongue.

Their heads are bent over a shared notebook— one strawberry blonde and the other caramel brown— which is all fine and good. Absolutely dandy. But then Sirius notices. He spots it! He sees it with his own two eyes! Remus is wearing that! That abomination! His fucking track uniform! The one with those tiny shorts and that shirt that shows off his surprisingly toned shoulders and especially protruding collarbones. 

And holy mother of God.

It’s obscene! It’s sickening! It’s completely inconsiderate and downright appalling of Remus to do this to him! Without any warning even! Sirius deserves more than that damn it! Even if this entire fucking idea is predicated on the notion that this is meant to be a surprise attack— That doesn’t matter, Remus should’ve known. But he didn’t, and now Sirius feels like he’s surely going to die of extreme dehydration. 

Sirius silently resolves to burn the uniform and to dance over its ashes while listening to the crescendo of Bohemian Rhapsody with an invisible crowd cheering him on. That’s the only right thing to do, a service to him and the masses who are all probably dealing with their heads imploding right along with him at the sight of Remus daring to dress like that in the public eye.

Forget that damn Carmen Sandiego, Remus John Lupin’s track uniform is public enemy number one.

Well,— erm, unless this plan works. Then Sirius can imagine many a scenario in which it would be very, very prudent to have that uniform within reach— Ones that include Remus’s pale pink lips going swollen from beneath him, and Sirius’s greedy hands pulling at the thin material, and— “Ouch.”

“Get that fucking look off your face you perv,” James hisses from his left, with a second cuff to the back of Sirius’s head for good measure.

“I— I don’t know what you’re even talking about Jamie,” Sirius defends in the weakest tone he’s ever heard himself use, so he doesn’t even mind when James just pins him with a all too knowing look before he strolls over towards his girlfriend, face morphing into the typical love struck expression that he always gets whenever around Lily, the fucking loser.

“And how is the most beautiful lady of this land and the Queen’s land and all the lands doing on this fine, fall afternoon,” he greets like the idiot he is. But thankfully, Lily’s always been a bit of a ball buster, so her hard look doesn’t even waver. Honestly, she looks incredibly peeved off, like she knows exactly what’s going on here and doesn’t like it at all. And Sirius truly does not doubt that her genius levels have actually exceeded to a point where she can read minds now.

“What are you up to James,” she asks testily, shooting Remus a moody look when he only snickers at her attitude, and that dulcet sound is enough of a motivator to spur Sirius into getting a fucking move on.

“Settle yourself Evans,” he answers for James, forcing himself to ignore the tension in his nether regions when he sits across from Remus in the stupidly small booth. It would really be so easy to just lean forwards and— No! No that’s not the plan damn it!

“Black, shouldn’t you be terrorizing Severus, or tricking some Freshman to buying a hall-pass?”

“Checked that off my list earlier this week, though I do appreciate you keeping a record of my schedule Red.”

The glower she pierces him with is nothing short of fucking terrifying, and it’s not the first time that Sirius is convinced that Lily will be strutting right out their home town in her beat up converse and favorite tube top just to win a Nobel Prize in a decade’s time. He only hopes she drags James along with her, and maybe keeps Remus here with him. They can even summer together in St Barts, or maybe the south of France?, He’s pretty sure his family’s estate over there is almost always free for some debauchery. And Remus seems like the type to enjoy a dark glass of wine with some nicely aged cheese.

What a beautiful thought.

“Go choke on a chode.” Lily tells him in a scarily flat tone, effectively dragging Sirius out his wondrous daydreams.

“Sorry Red, not my particular taste,” he says, flickering his gaze over to a pink faced and chuckling Remus who’s pretending to distract himself by fiddling with his camera. And oh, there’s that dimple again. Sirius can probably write a thousand sonnets and a million more odes about that particular feature.

“Didn’t know that dogs had actual taste? Thought you hump anything that walks by.”

“Sure I do Evans,” Sirius counters, never taking his eyes off of Remus as he speaks. “I like leggy brunettes, or actually more just sandy colored hair in general. And obviously they have to be smart, but know how to have a good laugh too.”

Lily rolls back her head, as if eyes alone aren’t enough to get across her general disgust. “Oh God.”

“Go on Paddy.” James says at the same time, elbowing his side with a supportive grin. But Sirius doesn’t pay either of them any mind, prefers to just stare at how Remus has ducked his head bashfully, and how many various shades of red his ears are turning, and just how lovely that track uniform really does look on him, and how it’s making Sirius go absolutely feral with wanting.

“Well, I also like them athletic I suppose, you know— It’s nice to have someone who’s limber.” He emphasizes the point by slinking his eyes over Remus’s narrow torso and up to his flushed cheeks, but the slighter boy is smiling now, so that’s got to be a good sign.

“Cut it out Black,” Lily reproves. “We’ve got actual assignments to do. And I don’t wanna be sick over my material after listening to your subpar flirting.”

“Well you can fuck off and I can help Remus here, I bet we’d do really amazing working on chemistry together.”

Remus’s smile turns to a grimace right then, shaking his head indulgently at Sirius while he grabs for his vanilla/chocolate milkshake. “What a line.”

Sirius tries really, really hard not to stare at the white residue that’s coding his lips. “I— Ahem. I try.”

“Imma go ask Rosmerta if I can stuff my head in one of the ovens, please be gone before I get back.” Lily declares mulishly, glaring pointedly at Sirius and James in turn before flouncing off in an air of strawberry perfume and pure irritation. Like the most amazing friend he is, James tells them that he should probably help her out considering they’re dating now, and mentions how Sirius is planning to major in Economics in University next year so he can totally help Remus out with his assignment.

“That has nothing to do with balancing formulas James,” Remus tells him, his soft tenner lilting up with amusement. 

“Sure it does bro, it’s all numbers at the end of the day,” he says, volleying him a wink and clapping Sirius on the shoulder with a meaningful squeeze. And yeah, this is Sirius’s opening. His time to shine, His chance to get a date with the one boy who’s been saturating his every thought for years now. He’s got this.

So it only makes sense that the moment James jets off, he’s suddenly so fucking tongue tied. 

Damn it.

“This doesn’t seem like a coincidental meet up.” Remus says, blessedly breaking the silence that was beginning to turn taught as he slides over the plate of fries that he and Lily were sharing towards Sirius, probably completely ignorant to how he’s making Sirius’s heart seize up with an array of emotions he couldn’t possibly determine now.

“I’m a whiz in chemistry,” Sirius contends, popping a fry into his mouth and favoring Remus with a his most full proof simper.

“Yeah, but I doubt that’s not why you guys ambled in.”

“I’ve never heard someone use the word amble a day in my life.” Sirius tells him, tone laced with laughter.

“It’s a good word.” Remus sniffs haughtily, arms crossed over his chest now and head tilted with challenge.

Sirius can’t help but chuckle. “It’s a word that only a nerd would you use babe.”

He absolutely preens when that makes Remus’s face go pink and his eyes dart away from Sirius completely. “Says the dude who actually enjoys doing math.”

“Numbers are fun,” he shrugs, blasé.

“That’s disconcerting, and I don’t think I can talk to you anymore if you actually think that way.”

“Is that right?”

“Feels sorta like a hate crime if I’m being honest.”

Sirius chuckles, amazed how effortlessly it feels slipping into banter with him. How there’s none of that awkwardness or stiltedness that happens usually with strangers. And he remembers how there’s that old adage about souls having known one another in past lives, and he thinks this is one of those instances. Like he’s more remembering Remus rather than getting to know him anew. Kind of how it felt like with James the first time they wrestled in the second grade when Sirius had thrown a snowball at the back of his porcupine head and they had come out of the impending wrestling match soaked and snickering and solidifying that they’d be best friends for the rest of their lives.

Though even now, the thought of wrestling James is merely a good way to release some of that pent-up, boyish energy they’re both plagued with. Brothers being jerks before they forget completely about it and leave to get some burgers instead. And though Remus is very much a boy, Sirius reckons that wrestling with him would be a very different nest of sensations all together. Jesus, even thinking of it is making his dick go half flagged, and he has to shuffle himself in the seat once more, just so he can prevent any chafing.

“Ahem,” he coughs, attempting to regain at least a smidge of his fucking dignity. “Well, I can give you some of my favorite equations, maybe it’ll improve your outlook?”

Remus’s brows pinch, and Sirius thinks he’d give his right leg just so he can thumb across the little crease that appears between them. “These equations wouldn’t include the numbers sixty-nine or ninety-six, would they?”

Sirius bursts out with laughter, he’s so fucking smitten.

“Actually Remus, babe, I was just gonna say that me plus you equals us going out on a date this Friday night. But listen, no objections on my end if you wanna go that route instead.”

Remus’s shrewd gaze drops for something more bemused, and a bit goading. “That’s the worst come on I have ever heard, and a guy once asked to be my Romulus.”

Sirius’s brows shoot up, another bout of unrestrained laughter spilling from his lips. “Wait— Like he wants to fuck you as Remus and Romulus?”

“I don’t appreciate the chuckles. It was very traumatizing.”

“Well, did he know that they were brothers? Or did he just think they were like white washed boyfriends?”

“I don’t know and I didn’t want to ask.”

“I bet you still went out with’m.”

“He was cute you judgmental ass.”

“He wanted to role-play as brothers.” Sirius tells him, as if Remus could’ve forgotten.

“All right— Well maybe not cute enough to forget that, you have a point.”

“If it makes you feel better, that might have me beat for strangest come on line.”

The end of Remus’s mouth quirks up. “So what’s yours then?”

“Freshman year. Carter White asked if I’d like to find the gray area between us.”

“Oh damn.”

“I know.”

“He gets points for word play?”

“You’re being too nice. It was horrific.”

“No yeah, you’re right. That is awful.”

“Not as bad as insinuating incest before the first kiss though.” Sirius points out. “You are definitely the winner of this duel Lupin.”

“I didn’t ask for this particular honor to be thrust upon me.”

Sirius only slightly chokes on the fry he’s chewing at the sound of Remus’s lovely voice saying the word thrust, and he glares over at him for it. The fucker definitely did it on purpose, he’s totally leering. Damn pretty prefects being secret devils.

“Wield your power responsibly Lupin.” He tells him, and hopes to God that the double meaning comes across clearly.

“I’m always a giver to my people Black,” he replies before taking another slow slurp and fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Sirius will not survive any of this.

“Is that a yes then?”

“Yes, to what exactly?”

“Us seeing a movie Friday night. Jesus, it’s like you’re not even paying attention Lupin.”

“You didn’t even ask me you ass,” Remus huffs. “Just tried slipping it into some shitty formula— which is the absolute biggest turn off by the buy.”

Sirius raises his hands in concession. “Fine. Fine. Well, I’m asking now.”

Remus kinks up a tawny brow, slight smirk toying on the edges of his mouth. “You really know how too romance a fella, Black.”

“Oh trust me, i fully intend to knock you off your feet Remus— maybe hard enough so you end up on your knees instead?” Sirius counters, thrilled in how Remus’s pupils grow three sizes wider— the warm brown of his irises nothing more than a ring.

“You’re a menace.”

“Is this the part where I make a lame Denis joke?”

“Naturally, but the moment’s past and you failed.”

“All the apologies then.”

“I’ll let you know if I forgive you, I’ve got to think about it for a bit.”

“Understandable,” Sirius chuckles, moving so that he’s leaning closer. “So you still haven’t given me an answer.”

“I’m not sure you even asked a proper question yet.”

Sirius thinks that if Remus wasn’t so damn gorgeous, he’d probably hav an aneurism by now. “Remus Lupin, will you go out with me to a movie this Friday night?”

“Hmm,” Remus lounges back in his seat, his mouth twisted ever so slightly and one leg bent up to his chest with his arms crossed over it, while the other dangles leisurely. “Why.”

And oh.

Sirius didn’t expect that.

He feels a bit taken aback, equal parts stunned and confused. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you want to go out with me?” Remus asks again, but his features slacken soon enough, probably reading the uncomfortable look on Sirius’s face. “I just— I know there were some rumors at the end of last year after I broke up with— Well my ex.”

“Woah, wait.” Sirius nearly yells, sliding a hand across the tabletop between them and grappling for air, suddenly wishing he could be holding one of Remus’s hands. “Listen I never heard anything, and I wouldn’t give a fuck even if I did. Like Jesus, if I believed half the shit that was spread around our school, I’d be a dad like seven times over and be living in a high-rise with my Saudi Prince boyfriend.”

Remus stifles a small laugh, finally looking relaxed once again. “I thought it was that Greek one who goes to NYU?”

The tension seems to have melted away, so Sirius winks at him, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially twice over. “Couldn’t tell you the validity of that babe, NDAs and all that. You understand.”

“Oh, I see, very tricky love triangle you’ve gotten yourself tangled in.”

“Alas, it’s my lot in life.” Sirius sighs, an over dramatic arm slung over his forehead. “But I think I carry it with Grace.”

“I don’t know how you’ll ever choose,” Remus says, eyes finally going bright and words lit with humor.

“You’re telling me,” Sirius nods, thinks he should actually be winning an Emmy or something. “One offers me a hotel franchise and the other tells me that he wants to feed me olives on a Tuscany rooftop.”

“Difficult decision indeed.” Remus chuckles, standing up fully now and gathering his half of the books into his satchel, and cradling his camera with care. “Well, seeing that I’ve only got an expired coupon for a free sub at Solly’s and fifteen dollars I saved from my old babysitting gig for the Prewetts’s nephews, I doubt that I can compete.”

“Let’s not be hasty there Lupin.” Sirius says, this edge of Frantic while scrambling from his seat and peering down at him with as much conviction in his gaze as he can possibly muster. “I think I’d choose you over just about anything else.”

Remus smiles, slow and gentle as he zips up his bag. “I don’t have to worry about any international agents hunting me down? I mean you don’t have a Russian sugar daddy on the side, do you?”

“Vladimir isn’t even in town,” Sirius retorts cheekily, resting a ginger hand on his side and feeling like his heart has just been pumped with helium when the joke lands and he gets to actually see that long adored dimple directed at him, popping up because of him. 

“Okay then.”

“Okay?” Sirius repeats hopefully.

“Meet me at The Phoenix over on Maple at seven?”

“The old timey cinema that only plays movies from like a thousand years ago?”

“Silent films barely came around by the turn of the twentieth century Sirius, and they hardly play them. Mostly just golden era ones.”

“Movies made a thousand years ago,” he reiterates with feeling, and delights in how Remus rolls his eyes heavenwards, but it’s totally done with fondness.

“Good thing you like me enough to suffer through it.”

Sirius positively glows in reply. “You know it.”

Remus dips down his head, trying to hide the smile and the flush that Sirius can still see with perfect precision. “Tell Lils I had to run to track practice, yeah?” He instructs, squeezing Sirius’s free hand before strolling out, stopping half way just to look back at Sirius and grin. It’s fucking amazing, and he doesn’t look away from Remus’s ass in those tiny shorts until he feels James thumping his back excitedly and asking how it went with a very irate looking Lily to his left. But then Sirius casually mentions how her shirt is inside out and she just kicks him in the ankle before returning to her studies. Muttering mulishly under her breath that Sirius better know what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I hope so too.” Sirius replies, low enough so that only James from besides him can hear the words.


	3. Part III

~*~

For the rest of the week leading up to the date, Sirius is on cloud fucking nine. 

He trades furtive smiles with Remus from across the halls that doesn’t ever fail to knock the breath out of him— Seriously, every single damn time. And they’ve begun texting sporadically throughout the days where Remus would send the dorkiest little jokes that really shouldn’t make Sirius laugh so loudly, and when they’re partnered for the Chemistry lab after some quick maneuvering on Sirius’s end and a snarl of annoyance on Lily’s, Remus slides close enough to Sirius’s ear that he can feel his hot tendrils of breath skirting against his skin while Remus asks if Sirius thinks Snape’s nose could fall off if they make the Bunsen Burner he’s using overheat so that the experiment ends up combusting.

And Sirius knows that he’s falling into something like love.

By Thursday, Sirius puts it onto himself to drag their tables together during lunch so that their crowd of friends can intermingle, which ends up fitting like a glove. James and Lily exchange coupley stories with Frank and Alice, while Peter drools over Mary McDonald, who in turn is tittering at his attention. Marlene starts up a lively debate with Benjy Fenwick and a reluctant Kingsley about the Patriots and Packers facing off during the Super Bowl, right before Sirius assumes the open seat besides Remus with a piece of chocolate cake he’s just bought from the cafeteria, (preening because the first thing he’s ever learned about Remus is that he’s an absolute fiend of any and all sweets. So he’s definitely scored some points).

Though, right when he settles down— prepared to spend the rest of the period gazing adoringly at a distracted Remus—Dorcas teasingly dubs him the East coast Logan Paul, and when he shouts for Remus to defend his fucking honor, the other boy only looks up mildly from his copy of War & Peace, giving him a one armed shrug.

“Suppose I always did think Jake was the prettier of the douchebag duo,” he says, eyes flickering over to where an oblivious Regulus is holding court with a few of his own friends.

Sirius absolutely does not feel bad for kicking his ankle after balking at the lip, or for tossing Dorcas the bird when she cackles like fucking Pennywise.

“Forget about Friday Lupin.”

Remus simpers up at him, long lashes fluttering indulgently. “Come now Sirius, what’s with the sour face? You don’t need me to really stroke your ego, do you?”

If he were in a better mood, Sirius would probably retort that he’d rather Remus stroke a completely different part of his anatomy. But he’s not, so he doesn’t. Opts to pissily glare at a point over Remus’s shoulder. But, admittedly, he does suddenly feel infinitely better when he feels a hand— a very familiar hand that’s all long tapered fingers and freckles dusting the back of its palm— squeezing his own from under the table. 

“You’re literally the best looking person I have ever seen in real life.” Remus assures, dimpling up at him with mirth teeming his lovely eyes.

“Only real life?” Sirius retorts, scooting a bit closer on the bench and ignoring how Dorcas rolls her eyes at them before joining Kingsley in defense of the Packers.

“Well, Michael B Jordan still exists you know.”

“Psha. You like them buff do you Lupin?”

Remus swallows, gaze discretely flickering over Sirius’s biceps before nodding imperceptibly and going back to his book. And Sirius feels like he’s the cat who just caught the fucking canary— the most ruffled, and adorable, and precious canary that is.

.-

By the time Friday night rolls around, it feels like something feted in the stars. Especially while they’re standing in the queue waiting to buy their tickets; littlest fingers linked while Remus crows excitedly about the nuance of Casablanca, and how he’s sure Sirius is going to love it.

“You have a thing for old movies,” he observes endearingly.

Remus sniffs loftily, “Not always old ones.”

“Name one from this century then.”

“ Ten Things I Hate About You is pure genius.”

“Isn’t that a chick flick.”

“That’s misogynistic.”

“Fine, Romantic Comedy then.”

“So? Still is amazing, and I’ll die on that hill. Besides, have you seen Heath Ledger? He deserves an Oscar based off his face alone.”

Sirius frowns now, pinning him with a moody glower. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like getting me jealous over all these fantasies you have about different men, Lupin.”

Remus winks at him, goading, before he steps forwards as the next couple leaves with their own tickets in hand. “Maybe I like you possessive.”

And oh.

Yes, yes indeed. Sirius likes the idea of that very much. Though he does find it apt to point out how Remus is not nearly as innocent as everyone else is made to assume.

“But you like that though,” Remus retorts, a pixelated gleam twinkling in his eyes that are suddenly more green than brown.

“You are probably gonna be the death of me,” Sirius tells him solemnly, and Remus laughs, sounding like the morning sun— golden and resplendent and all the lovely things prattled on about in stories of once upon a time.

“So what’s your favorite film then? Don’t tell me it’s Fast and Furious?”

“That’s insulting.”

“You seem like you’d enjoy the low brow shit.”

“Well I’m here with you, so what does that mean you’re calling yourself?”

Remus hip checks him, their snickers falling together. “Okay, point. Touché Black. So what is it then?”

“Hmm,” Sirius flickers through the movies he’s seen with James or his wayward date for the night, and the ones his Uncle Alphard would play him in his private theatre whenever Sirius and Regulus came to spend a weekend in his Upper East Side penthouse. “Maybe Citizen Kane? Hey, what’s with the face?”

“I’m not making a face,” Remus says primly, head tilted with an imperious air.

“Sure you are, it’s your judgey face.”

“I certainly do not have a judgey face.”

“Sure you do.”

“The acid’s finally gotten to your brain, because I don’t.”

“Hey! I’ve only done it like once, and it was when James and I were up in Montauk, what the fuck else did we have to do?” Remus only answers with his left brow cocked. “You would’ve done some shitty hiking trail, wouldn’t you.”

“Once a Californian, always a Californian I suppose.”

“No wonder why you have such an obvious judgey face, you guys are all bohemians out there, aren’t you? Keeping your heart on your sleeves.”

“For the final fucking time! I do not have a judgey face!” Remus reiterates, his free hand waving around emphatically. And God, Sirius never knew how fucking miraculous it would feel getting him undone like this, stops himself from wondering how he’d look in other situations lest he pops a stiffy right in the middle of public.

“You do, babe.” He says, tempering down his glee. “Your lips are pinched in that discrete way, and you’ve got that dent between your brows, you’re also biting the inside of your cheek like you really wanna say something, but know you shouldn’t.”

Remus looks like he’s just been stunned still, but his eyes are soft. Like he’s flattered by the observation. “I think I should be concerned over just how thoroughly you’ve been studying my face.”

Sirius shrugs, indifferent. “I like pretty things.”

Remus smiles right then, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and ears absolutely scarlet. Mother of God, is he so fucking gorgeous. “Flattery will get you no where, Black.”

“All I want is a simple answer why you think Citizen Kane is a subpar movie, Lupin,” Sirius counters, bending down so that they’re eye to eye and he can smell the cocktail of citrus and cinnamon and sunlight that always clings to Remus’s skin.

“Humph,” He breathes in deep, composing himself once more, and God is that impressive. How Remus can paint himself a blank slate at the snap of a finger. “It’s basic for one.”

“So is your Starbucks order,” Sirius smirks, completely expecting it when Remus swaths his chest with his knuckles in retaliation.

“It’s also so pretentious, and so fucking slow.”

“It is not pretentious!”

“Who the fuck cares about what the fuck the Rosebud represents?”

“It’s a question that tests the expanse of time I’ll have you know,” Sirius huffs. “Like the allegory of the cave, or what came first, the chicken or the egg.”

“Okay first, don’t ever compare that movie to Plato again, or I will have to drop kick you.”

“Kinky.”

“And second, it’s obviously the egg because we all know dinosaurs and chickens share a common ancestor and have the same build.”

“You just have all the answers, don’t you Professor Lupin.”

“The sooner you learn that, the easier it gets for you,” Remus goads, hazel eyes glancing over the still ridiculously long line. 

“Trust me, I have no issues with that,” Sirius tells him, purposefully dropping his voice a couple octaves lower from its typical, easy going baritone, as he pulls his wallet out from his pocket and chooses one of the shiny, Black cards. Remus glances over at him, light brown eyes suddenly flaring with color and mouth leering in that very enticing way of his. “Why don’t you grab the snacks then, since you have the know all on everything. And I’ll grab us the tickets.”

Remus beams. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah, this way we can grab the good seats in the back while all the other idiots are still waiting.”

“Oh?” Remus asks in a faux owlish sort of way, though Sirius can spot the glint of mischief in his gaze and it makes his insides tingle to life. “And why not something closer to the screen? I mean that way you can have a better view of the movie.”

“Mmm,” gently, Sirius cards a hand through Remus’s fringe, pulling it back with just a tad bit more force than necessary. “Maybe if you pick out some good snacks, I’ll be glad to show you why those back row seats are so nifty Professor Lupin.”

“You’re the devil.”

“And you only moonlight as a studious prefect with a pretty smile.”

“Well, I’ve got to keep up the charade, lest someone think I’d canoodle with the likes of you.”

“Oh I want to do more than canoodling,” Sirius assures. “But maybe not here in public.” 

“menis.”

“Yes, yes. I know.” Sirius sighs, forever suffering, as he hands him the card and glaring when Remus retaliates that he can buy the snacks since Sirius is paying for the tickets. “Lupin, I asked you out. That means I pay, and you can spot us next time.” Though Sirius doesn’t ever intend on letting him do that, knows already that Remus is being raised by a single mom and works a part time job at Starbucks to help supplement the portion of his tuition that isn’t covered by the scholarship.

“So there’ll be a next time?” Remus asks, voice low and slightly threadbare, as if it’s been a question he’s been contemplating on for a while. And Jesus fuck, he might have to give James credit for something because it appears true that Remus is completely ignorant to just how lost on him Sirius already is.

“Oh, no doubt.” Sirius says forcefully, hand dropping from Remus’s hair down to his shoulder to thumb at the single row of three diagonal freckles resting on the side of his neck— Sirius has very vivid imaginings of getting to taste that spot. “I’ve still got so many questions to ask, considering you know all.”

Pink faced, Remus shoots him a quick wink, but before he’s too far gone, he suddenly rounds on him, rushing forwards to kiss the corner of Sirius’s mouth with intent. And in a flash, he’s gone again, and Sirius is left dumbfounded and dazed and so damn smitten. So damn convinced Remus is his forever person.

However, all too soon— Sirius is pulled out his idyllic daydreams of him and Remus living in an apartment together through university and having a joint wedding with James and Lily before they become neighbors and start their families. Somewhere warm, definitely. Somewhere that can bring the golden highlights out in Remus’s hair and make him glow like something heavenly. Maybe they can move back to Remus’s hometown in the West coast? The North end of the state is nice, still have some semblance of the seasons and his hometown is right on the cusp of the Pacific too.

Yes, Sirius is going to make this happen. He’s sure of it.

“Wow Black,” the most unwelcome voice possible sneers, strolling up to him with a casual air. Jesus fuck, Sirius would rather see Snivellus’s fucking beak over Fabian’s face right about now. “And here I thought Lupin was frigid.”

Sirius clenches his fists— nails biting crescents into his palm. “What the fuck are you doing here, Prewett.”

Fabian only waves him off, uncaring. “Emmy took me back so it was either this or that new Timothee Chalamet movie.” Sirius looks over to where he’s gesturing, and yup, there Emmy is, sitting cross legged on one of the sofas to the side and texting away. Sirius silently hopes that this is just her trying to get a free ride and not actually excepting Fabian’s lousy excuses, she’s a nice girl. Smart and unassuming and pretty in that quiet sort of way. Just because she’s a cheerleader doesn’t mean she has to follow the stupid, Riverdale-esque trope of wasting her time on dimwitted athletes. “But damn, I did not expect you to be this good Black, I mean Lupin was eating out the palm of your hand, like a little puppy.”

This time Sirius does not hold himself back from jostling him unceremoniously, hand fisted in the front of Fabian’s shirt. “Do you ever shut. Up. Prewett?”

“Hey now,” Fabian chuckles, but it comes out more uncharitable than anything else as he tactfully tugs his collar from Sirius’s grasp. “I was just giving you a compliment. Congrats on getting closer to not having to streak the crowds, I doubt there’s enough wine that your Ma can chug to be rid of the shame.”

“I’m going to pummel you.” 

“Save it for the match next weekend Tiger. And don’t forget, you can’t just hit it and quit it, you’ve got to romance our dear lady Lupin.”

“You fucking son of a bitch! Will you just shut the fuck up!” Sirius barks, casting a hurried and frightful glance around the cinema, thanking his every blessed star that Remus is still ordering up front. “This isn’t a game all right, I like him. I’ve been into him since he transferred. So this isn’t a fucking game! And I swear to God if you start flapping your mouth around or if you ever start insinuating anything or dare to mess with him, I will literally make it so you shit out your mouth for the rest of your life.”

Fabian’s stayed uncharacteristically quiet through the entire little soliloquy, and Sirius feels an uncomfortable, terrorized sensation squirming right under his skin. The redhead’s intense gaze doesn’t even waver, and Sirius is about to shout at him to fucking say something already, but then he sees Remus sprinting up towards them with the goods in hand— his beauteous features alight— and Sirius can only cast Fabian one final look of pure condemnation, before he smiles as unaffectedly as possible towards Remus, grabbing half the items to relieve him of the load.

“Now I can see that doubt on your face Sirius,” Remus starts, barely having noticed Fabian with anything more than a friendly grin of hello. “But trust me, peanut MnMs and movie popcorn are long lost lovers.”

Sirius wonders if his thin smile even touches his eyes. He needs to start acting normally once more, he knows that, but it would be so much easier if the asshole besides him would just fuck off already.

“Is that right?” Sirius feels himself tensing when Fabian casts his gaze from his face to Remus’s, and back to Sirius’s again. But his guard does relax when Fabian turns to completely look towards Remus now, grinning in a way that’s actually affable. “You need to stop converting the masses Lupin. I wince every time Gideon mixes them together now.”

“Join the dark side Fabian,” Remus counters, waggling the pack of MnMs teasingly.

“While I don’t claim a threesome with you and Black isn’t enticing, I do have my own date to worry over, and I think Emmy has still got me in the doghouse. So I better not bug her anymore than necessary.”

“Yeah,” Sirius quickly interjects, needing to forget everything about this encounter. “You should probably get going.”

“Mmm, thanks for checking over my Calculus assignment by the way Black. You can just give it to me tomorrow before practice.” And yeah, Sirius understands the silent proposition. Understands that Fabian will stay quiet just as long as Sirius does the work, and it’s such a low price compared to Remus potentially finding out any of this that it’s nearly laughable. But Fabian is still an unrepentant prick so he doesn’t even twitch a smile, only nods sharply and juts his chin towards Emmeline in dismissal.

“Jesus, if I didn’t know Fabian is as straight as an arrow, I would’ve thought you two use to smash based off that tension.” Remus says, because of course he noticed. He’s clever and smart and so damn intuitive. And God Sirius really can’t stand how much he likes him— Inwardly shuttering at the idea that Fabian would ever tell.

“Redheads aren’t my taste,” is all that he says, tries grounding himself once more and forgetting everything about the past ten minutes. “But I suppose they’re yours?”

Remus tosses him a one armed shrug, beginning to snack on the shared large popcorn. “’’Twas when I first moved here, and Gideon was nice.”

“Well, should I feel cheap that you apparently show all your dates this secret with popcorn and MnMs?” Sirius asks, swaying closer to him, feeling a rush of affection when Remus tilts his golden head back to smile up at him.

“Would I make you feel better if I told you that you’re the first person who gets to taste my super secret recipe for the perfect slushy?” He says with a shake to the cup with two straws.

“Much,” Sirius relents, doesn’t take his eyes off from Remus’s far too lovely mouth. It shouldn’t be allowed for boys to have such perfectly shaped lips— thin on top and plump on the bottom.

“Well, it’s our turn, so get the tickets won’t you.”

“Testy.”

“I’d really like to get some extra tutoring on the back row etiquette before everyone else joins us,” Remus explains. He’s absolutely wicked, and Sirius can’t believe no one else can tell.

“Hah, right.” He breathes out, tugging on the ends of his hair with unkempt excitement. “Well you don’t have to ask twice.” 

He strolls to the counter with a bored looking, blue haired girl operating the till and catches Remus’s soft laughter ringing across the space between them and fluttering somewhere deep in his heart. And it’s the realist sound he’s ever heard.

~*~

Sirius begins to unravel Remus throughout October, along with the changing leaves and creeping chill and faltering sunlight. It’s admittedly a strangely heady feeling, getting to fall into him and getting to watch Remus drop right back in the same kind of lovesick ways. But God, is it something miraculous.

Its days spent steeling furtive kisses in shadowy corners, or finding conveniently empty closets during lunch breaks for beyond that. Days filled with inside jokes that he once only shared with James, and infuriatingly soft touches that he certainly never wants to share with James. But it’s also more than that. It’s just merely sitting besides one another in the library while they do their respective assignments, or going to the lake cusping the school’s campus and talking about absolutely nothing of importance, mostly just words accompanying the simplicity of getting to soak up the presence of one another.

It’s by that lake where Sirius admits to Remus that he knows his dad wants him to take over the family business, but he’s planning to spite him. Planning to create a non-prophet with James once they leave school to help the impoverished folks around the country. Thinks that it’s only fair considering how he could quite literally live off his family’s inheritance for three generations without even blinking an eye. And it’s where Remus first admitted that he wants to make movies one day, wants to make a difference with his creations. To tell stories that have always been shut out by the establishment.

“You need to cut out all the reading if you wanna focus on movies, babe.” Sirius had joked, and Remus had laughed with an indulgent grin. 

“Orson Wells said that a film is never really good unless the camera is an eye in the head of a poet you know.”

“Of course I didn’t know, because I’m not a nerd like you, love.” 

And Remus had shoved him and Sirius had wrestled him to the ground in retaliation, and then they had gotten lost in the sensation of one another’s hungry mouths and wandering hands and thrusting hips.

It’s also by that lake where Sirius learns how Remus likes to e kissed with a feverish sort of deliberation, and how he practically sings when Sirius laps at that row of freckles to the left of his barely perceptible Adam’s apple— finally getting a good taste of it. 

He also finds out the wonderfully mundane parts of him. Finds out that Remus prefers his coffees strong but his tea weak, and how he needs to be playing instrumental music when he’s writing papers. He has a ridiculous hatred of memes and a private Instagram account with a good amount of followers that’s just photos of nature and artfully poised books against a wall of records. And when Sirius offers to be one of his French girls Remus turns so scarlet that Sirius can’t help but cower over with laughter.

Though, through their weeks of dating, Sirius also figures out, none too happily, that Remus usually spends most of his weekends either working at the coffee shop or heading to the city to help his mother with the small art exhibit she owns in the center of Brooklyn. So their dates are limited in scope, but no less wonderful. They ordinarily keep it low key, but Fridays are dedicated for the movies Remus deems are crucial for Sirius to watch if he’s ever supposed to be a self respecting member of society. And as much as Sirius loves those nights— of getting to hold Remus close in the dark theatre— He thinks that one of the best ideas they ever had was when they had doubled up with James and Lily to go to the apple patch upstate. It was a brilliantly golden Sunday where Sirius got to tug on the scarlet scarf Remus wore whenever he wanted a kiss, and drinking warm cider while they carved misshapen pumpkins to the toon of James’s shitty Halloween playlist. A Sunday where Lily didn’t glare at him quite so scathingly and even partnered up with him when Remus and James tried claiming that The Office of all shows is their favorite sitcom like a couple of pretentious pricks. A Sunday ending with them escaping to James’s home once the whether got to frosty with each couple claiming a sofa while they watched a cheesy horror film with Nick Canon screaming about a bunch of bees.

And when Lily dragged James to the kitchen to make everyone some spiked hot chocolate, Sirius got to pepper a fresh round of kisses against Remus’s jawline and on the hollow of his cheek and got to taste the candy apples and pecan pie that still coated his mouth.

But perhaps most importantly— most astonishingly— is that through it all, Sirius finds them. The secret little snippets of thoughts that Remus jots down discretely and hides in the pockets of Sirius’s jeans or in the glovebox of his G-Wagon, or once— memorably— at the lining of his boxers that he must’ve slipped in while they were getting handsy on the hood of the car instead of watching the stars like intended— the sneaky little fuck.

Sirius isn’t quite sure what to call them, what they even are really. The one time he texted him thank you for the love letter after the third occurrence, Remus promptly blocked his number and didn’t speak to him for the rest of the weekend in favor of filling his Snap story with photos of Lily and him at a nearby park surrounded by the fiery foliage. (No one ever said Remus isn’t a damn enigma)). So Sirius just calls them notes if he ever lets himself contemplate them for too long— Which ends up happening embarrassingly often if he’s being honest. 

It started off after that first, brilliant date when Sirius got home, and accidentally stumbled over the snacks receipt while looking for his lighter for a smoke. And he would’ve crumpled it up again immediately if he didn’t catch the ink bleeding from the back. So he flipped it over and read the words penned by Remus’s small, cramped hand. 

You’re literally so gorgeous, I have no idea why you’re even humoring me with this date. Like you must know that any person would feel blessed by every angel above to go out with you. But you didn’t choose any of them, you asked me. And that’s really fucking mind-blowing, but thank you anyways.   
—RJL

They were short, clipped sentences, but they were enough to make Sirius’s heart clench and his stomach tumble. And when he pulled out his phone to text Remus that if they don’t go out again soon he’s going to probably implode, the other boy only replied with another date and time. Neither of them mention the letter, and Sirius never tried again after that initial attempt. But he thinks they both prefer it that way, it feels like something clandestine, something only shared underneath starlight and amidst whispered caresses. Something that Sirius would probably watch in one of those films Remus has always been so enamored by. 

Soon enough, Sirius stumbles over the notes almost anywhere. He found one in his locker that simply described just how thoroughly Remus wanted to kiss Sirius all through English. And another in his history textbook that compared his eyes to winter mornings and his smile to the sun that Icarus gave up his life to merely touch. Another on his lunch tray after Remus left to his ceramics class and before Sirius tossed it way by accident, that was a list of songs that reminded him of Sirius, (like some sort of victorian age mixtape). 

And as the autumnal weeks past, they got longer, more detailed. Like Remus was slowly but surely shedding his defenses, bronze armor that he was slipping off piece by piece.

He writes about his favorite directors— Hitchcock and Chaplin and Kazan— and how they understand the human condition. How love in all its forms is in the center of it all. And sometimes it’s just him quoting poetry at Sirius and talking about what it’s supposed to mean. And others it’s him talking about growing up in a tiny beach town where his first steps were against the oceans churning waves and how he collected sea glass so now he buys crystals to replicate them while living here. And he talks about the salty smell saturating the air and about the trails he had known like a second home and how he had mapped them out with an ex boyfriend like they were cartographers from centuries past.

Remus wrote about his first trip to LA with his father before he had left to marry his pretty blonde assistant who was almost a decade his junior. He talked about falling in love with the history of the actors and the directors and the invisible names behind the production who’s stories were forever ingrained into the soil and air and very foundation of the city. He talked about Peg Entwhistle who jumped from the Hollywood sign because she saw nothing else worth while if she couldn’t act, and he remarked on how terrifying and consuming of a love she must’ve had for her craft. He wondered if a great passion was worth it if that’s all you ever needed to breathe, and Sirius was thankful Remus never expected a response because he didn’t know how to answer; though suspected that yes. Yes, it would be worth a thousand deaths to feel that passion even once.

The letters are like a secret language, Sirius quickly discovers. And he hoards them with greedy hands and caresses them with gentle fingers, finding an old snuffbox that was some sort of Black family heirloom to store them inside of, to protect them, to cherish them, to find them when he’s feeling lonely and wants to remember Remus.

But like all secrets, they never talk about them in the light of day, so Sirius can only repay him for these insights into his person by divulging to Remus his own story and his own secrets when they’re lying besides one another— Remus’s head on Sirius’s chest, and Sirius’s hand carding through his caramel curls. It should probably be disconcerting just how easy Sirius finds it, telling Remus about his distant father who spent his free time from the office playing endless rounds of golf in the club, and his mother who drinks like it’s her only escape or else she’d remember that she traded her autonomy for shiny jewels and an array of houses in multiple continents. Telling him about how sometimes it felt like it was his responsibility to raise Regulus on the right path, with the right values, even though they’re only thirteen months apart, and how terrified he is too fuck it up like he’s want to do. But it’s not, and he thinks that has to do with the realization that Remus is the person he’s meant to disclose all of these secrets to.

During the lulls of these confessionals where Sirius’s words are hesitant as he seeks for salvation from Remus— who’s more of a prophet than any of those psychos on the streets— he can only distract himself with counting out the different shades of brown and amber and green that glitter in Remus’s eyes. but then he feels indescribable relief when the pads of Remus’s fingers skim across his skin with a soft sort of piety and when he feels Remus’s lips move against his with no other intent, just reassuring and lingering and feeling like something close to understanding. And every time Sirius senses the treacherous I love you that’s scratching up his throat to spill out with a furious sort of assurance, he only tightens his lips and swallows them back; it’s too soon, too fast, far too vulnerable of an admission. And even if it hurts like nothing else when those three words and eight letters shred his throat to ribbons on their way down, he knows it’s the right choice for now.

.-

His birthday that year lands on a Monday night, so even though at least a third of their class are still recovering from their Halloween benders, James plans for a party after hours in the Hogwarts pool, and it’s wild in all the right ways. Peter figures out how to turn on the lights used by the elderly aerobics class, and the Prewetts bring the booze with the money everyone chipped in earlier on, and James makes sure that only the people Sirius can stand to be in near proximity with are here. So it’s pretty close to fucking perfect, most especially when he saw Remus meandering indoors with those brilliantly tiny shorts and that deliciously tight top.

Currently, Sirius is taking a breather on the lifeguard’s chair with a cold beer as he looks out at everyone laughing and splashing around like the idiotic teens that they are. Though he admittedly takes special note at how Remus— still dressed in his red V-neck and shorts from when Lily pushed him into the pool when first arriving— is mounting Kingsley’s shoulders and scuffling with Gideon, who is sat atop Benjy in turn— with a pair of pool noodles that he saw Dorcas carting in with the pizzas while Marlene kept kissing her cheek like she couldn’t handle not touching her for even a breath.

Sirius is too busy silently pleading for James to take Kingsley’s place already, that he doesn’t immediately notice Lily— clad in a bright blue bikini that makes her look especially gorgeous and James especially slack jawed— padding over to him to munch on a hand full of the chips.

“Enjoying yourself Evans?” He asks, leaping down from his perch and finishing off his PBR.

“This is totally irresponsible.” She says instead of answering, pointedly gesturing to the recycling bag as if Sirius is some sort of neanderthal who’d just toss it on the ground if she weren’t here.

“Yeah, but it’s fun. And I know that you actually enjoy that from time to time.”

“Headmistress McGonagall is going to kick our asses to next week when she finds out.”

“If she finds out,” Sirius corrects, rapidly getting bored of the conversation and turning so he can see where exactly Remus has gotten to and if Kingsley is getting too friendly for comfort. “Besides, even McGonagall’s wrath didn’t stop you from coming to celebrate this most illustrious day of my birth.”

“Psha, I came for Remus dick-wad.” She’s quick to correct, but then she starts to shift from foot to foot, like she’s uncomfortable. “He likes you.”

It’s Sirius’s turn to roll his eyes at her and the subpar observation. “I’d hope so, it’s been over a month now.”

“No— Erm. I just mean—“ Lily stilts, breathing in deeply before looking at Sirius head on— suddenly fierce. “Remus has been through a lot of shit okay, and I love him like a brother— Probably better considering I have a sister but she’s a bit of a bitch and I definitely love Remus more than her and her sour attitude. Like on God, you should see this absolute ass face she’s going out with— Oh, ah. Not the point,” she laughs slightly at her self, arms folded over her chest as she looks down to her toes.

“No, I like this. I didn’t know there was anyone you hated more than me.” Sirius tells her with a slight chuckle, though it comes out stiff. He feels like this is a very important conversation that they’re having, and he’s not sure how to step forwards without activating a landmine. 

“Look Black, I don’t hate you,” she tells him, green eyes suddenly blazing once more. “I think you’re full of yourself and a jerk who usually just taps anything that breathes before leaving them in the dust. And that’s not my business, you’ve got the money and the looks to get away with it. But I just didn’t want you to fuck around with my best friend like he’s one of those conquests, you can understand that, right?”

“Yeah of course, but I don’t see Remus like that. Never have.” Sirius tells her, pretending like that stupid fucking bet isn’t clouding his thoughts, unbiddened and taunting.

“All right.” Lily says, shoulders deflating from the rigid line of tension she’s been standing with all this time, finally looking close to comfortable.

“And look, I’m probably not the best thing for him,” he admits. But listen, Lily. I’m trying, and Remus seems happy. SO I think I’m doing alright so far.” 

Lily’s nod is slow and a bit hesitant, but it’s enough to make Sirius level out his breathing and not feel like he’s somehow standing half an inch to the left of his own damn body. “You are. He likes you a sickening amount, and the only reason why I can’t tease him about it is because of all the dirt he has on me thirsting over James even while I couldn’t stand him.” 

They both laugh and Sirius asks if he’s allowed to tell James as much and only smiles harder when Lily threatens to rearrange his organs if he even dreamt to do so.

“Just take care of him, and if you hurt him— If I ever find out yo fucked up, I will have to kill you in cold blood, and I don’t think MIT takes in convicted felons so I’ll be doubly pissed.”

“Like you couldn’t make it look like a self offing.”

Lily’s grin goes devious, and strangely pleased. “And don’t you doubt it Black.”

“God I hope James knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

“He knows what I need him to know,” Lily counters, a playful gleam to her eyes while she throws him one last smile before jumping back in the pool to join Mary and Emmeline who are currently destroying Peter and Fabian at a round of races, but almost immediately slides his gaze off of them, finally finding Remus who’s eating Pizza with Dorcas towards the back on the stands, and his heart seizes up with an emotion he doesn’t know the name of— only that it’s something crippling and consuming and can ruin him if he let it.

.-

They’re sat in Sirius’s Camaro now, and Remus’s face is incandescent with laughter while Sirius tells him about two summers ago when Jeanette Wentworth had snuck into James’s room, and he was bodily locked into the closet while his best friend was getting head from the nice girl next-door. And he thinks he should probably be insulted that Remus finds this so hilarious, but would rather take advantage of the now parked car to study the way the moonlight pierces through the windshield and spills silver into Remus’s hair, dancing in his eyes with twinkling tenderness.

“That’s just so oddly poetic,” Remus guffaws. 

“I’ll be haunted by those sounds for the rest of my miserable life, I hope you know that while you poke fun.”

“That somehow makes it even better,” Remus squawks, inching closer so that his knee is covering the cup-holder.

“Your cruel.” Sirius tells him, moving closer right back so that they’re finally within kissing distance. But that also might’ve not been the smartest move considering how he can so clearly watch as Remus’s tiny, mischievous smirk melts over his features and makes him look suddenly so very potent. “And on my birthday too.”

“Hmm, how can I make it up to you?” Remus asks, voice going husky as he leans his still wet forehead against Sirius’s own.

“Well, there are a few things I can think of.” And before he quite realizes it himself, there’s Remus’s perfect lips slanted up against his own, and Remus’s devious tongue slipping against the roof of his mouth, and Remus’s soft hand cupping his cheek with the slightest, most delightful whimper. And suddenly absolutely nothing else matters. Not the car, not the soft Stevie Nicks song crooning out the radio, and not the sound of animals rumbling from outdoors.

All Sirius knows right now— all he feels and all he wants— is Remus and all the feverish feelings he can elicit out of Sirius without even a moment’s effort.

Soon enough, he drags the 150 pound, drenched lump of boy onto his lap and it’s really far too cramped for them to be folded into one another like this— even when Sirius pushes down on the recline button. But Sirius doesn’t even care, is too distracted by kissing him back with all the fervor he can muster, and the sounds pouring out of Remus with every ministration against his willowy body. Like how Remus begins gnawing on Sirius’s bottom lip when Sirius slips a hand beneath his swimming trunks to knead at the flesh of his ass, and how he practically mewls when Sirius mouths against the column of his long neck and nips against the juncture of his jaw and shoulder— hard enough that there will definitely be a bruise left behind. How when Sirius cants up hungrily, he’s rewarded by the sound of Remus’s low, rasp of a voice pleading out like the most gorgeous melody.

“Please Sirius— S. Please. Touch me.”

It’s literally the most painful thing he has to do when Sirius pulls back pantingly from his boyfriend, looking up at him only to be met by a burning behind Remus’s whiskey colored gaze that Sirius has never seen before. “Rem— Are you sure.”

Remus answers by making a very convincing whining noise at the center of his throat as he drags one of Sirius’s hands from his pert ass to cup around his still clothed groin, bucking forwards just so Sirius can perfectly understand how hard and needy he actually is. “Please, Sirius… Please!”

“Right, right. Of course.” He babbles, feels like it’s fucking Christmas morning as he slowly pulls down the waistline of his shorts, tongue suddenly feeling too thick to speak as Remus’s cock bounces to attention— beautiful and perfect like he expected. Long and lithe just like the rest of Remus, with a slight slant to the left. And got he wishes they weren’t in his fucking car parked in the expanse of trees behind Remus’s house, because fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. He would love to get a taste of him, to lick up his expanse and suck him dry. But then Remus makes another plea for him to touch him already and Sirius can’t deny Remus anything— especially this. So he gingerly circles a dry hand around his shaft, thankful that Remus is still wet from the pool party, and he’s to busy gazing at all the array of emotions flickering across of Remus’s face as he slowly pumps up and down his shaft, to even care about his own, painfully solid and leaking erection. This is too glorious of a sight, too gorgeous as Remus scrunches his face and ducks down so that he can kiss Sirius while he jerks him off. And he’s so lost in the intoxicating sensations that it’s a surprise when he feels Remus’s shaking fingers gliding over his shorts, tentative with his unspoken question.

“Yes,— God, fuck yes Remus.” Sirius tells him, wrecked and guttural, waiting for the feeling and nearly jumping up when his dick is suddenly enveloped in the curve of Remus’s soft skin, and he’s thrusting forwards, eagerly fucking into the tight circle Remus is clamping around him and he’s so fucking close.

“Come for me Sirius,” Remus begs, wrist flicking quicker and grasp going tight as he tugs even harder than before and Sirius can’t even see straight, just buries his face into Remus’s neck as he falls over the edge, thankful when he feels his torso splashed with the hot tendrils spirting out of Remus’s own cock. And he feels so fucking etherial— like he’s just left his own body to glide over the pair of them from another plane of existence.

“That—That was amazing,” Remus says with ragged breaths as he collapses over Sirius, nesting his head against Sirius’s broader shoulder and snaking his arms around him while their spent cocks touch only subtly as they’re tangled up like this.

“Fucking wild,” Sirius concurs, palming up and down Remus’s back that’s still soaked with pool water and now a good amount of sweat too. And he smells like chlorine and spunk and a little like beer but it’s still the best thing and only thing Sirius could ever want right now.

They remain lying against one another for an indiscernible amount of time, but when they look up next, it’s nearly one in the morning and they’ve both got parents and early classes to answer to now. 

“I should probably get down before my Ma hires a fire squad.” 

“Or just stay, and we can run away for like an eon. I think my Uncle Alphard has a nice bungalow in the Caribbean? Dominican Republic maybe?” 

Remus bites down on his smile, head ducked while he tucks himself back inside his shorts and does up Sirius’s own. “Now that’s silly, we both take French.”

“Language of love, makes sense,” Sirius points out with a lewd thrust, nearly making it so Remus’s head bumps up against the roof of the car. 

“Yeah, well maybe we can learn how to say clean up the fucking jiz in French so next time we’re not so crusty.” Remus grouses, wiggling slightly in Sirius’s lap as he brings his hands to squeeze Sirius’s shoulders.

“That’s the smell of love making Lupin, we can’t just cover it up so callously.”

“Good luck cleaning out the smell of love from your leather upholstery then,” Remus barbs, dipping forwards to kiss his cheek and the tip of his nose.

“Well that’s why we’ve got ourselves Kreacher silly.”

“Mmm, right. Well when you start sounding like Mr Afluensia, I know it’s my queue to get going before I sock you, or kiss you again— Either one would kill me.”

“Oh psha, you like me being a walking contradiction, keeps you guessing.”

“Yes, well. I do suppose it keeps things interesting,” Remus says absently, already having grabbed his duffle with his dry clothes inside. But now he’s squirming around in Sirius’s lap like he can’t leave quite yet, and if he keeps up with it, little Sirius is going to make a real strident effort for round two.

“Let me guess,” he starts, smile probably exposing how besotted he feels. “You want me to shut my eyes?”

Remus bites the inside of his cheek, blushing like a virgin bride. Two things he most definitely is not, and Sirius loves knowing that now. “If you don’t terribly mind?”

“You know Remus,” Sirius starts, sitting up completely now, making it so that Remus has to twist slightly or else his ass would be pressing directly against the horn. “Life isn’t the silver screen.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t it be so much better if it was,” Remus counters, smiling fully now and looking so pleased with himself as he covers Sirius’s eyes with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick. So not too bad of a position if he’s being honest. 

When Sirius can see again, Remus pecks him hurriedly on the lips and promises to see him tomorrow before first period.

“Maybe we can find somewhere to do this again?” He asks hopefully.

“If you’re good,” Remus winks, clicking the door shut before he sprints across his yard to the modest ranch house where he lives.

.-

Sirius finds the latest love letter tucked beneath the passenger’s seat and chuckles quietly to himself while reading it before bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO SO much for reading!
> 
> It would mean SO SO SO much if you left a comment below letting me know what you thought!!! 
> 
> Seriously every comment makes me sob with joy, I can’t even describe it! 
> 
> I answer short prompt fills and Headcanon requests on my [Tumblr](http://PrefectMoony.tumblr.com)!!!!


End file.
